


The Wife Of Bath

by BaronessEmma



Category: Canterbury Tales - Geoffrey Chaucer, The Scarlet Pimpernel - Baroness Orczy
Genre: Crossover, F/M, Purple Prose
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-17
Updated: 2015-03-17
Packaged: 2018-03-18 07:47:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3561878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BaronessEmma/pseuds/BaronessEmma
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A rainy night in Bath. . . Sir Percy asks Marguerite to tell him a story. . . and snark, satire, humor and double-entendres ensue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Preamble to The Wife of Bath's Tale

**Author's Note:**

> For: Clio1792 and Sherlockian Girl, my very dear friends.

**The Preamble to The Wife of Bath's Tale:** "My experience gives me ample right to speak on the matter of Marriage, its problems and its proclivities, (even were there no other Authority in this green earth) as far as concerns affection, and of getting the man to marry you, for I have (Attend to me all who Listen!) - I have, since the age of sixteen, refused the hands of fifty men who would have performed this Office unto me (though only five were of any note), and I refused them all - God save me! - but learned one good thing from each, and so they all might be said to be noble men - each in their way - for any man who can teach a woman without letting on that he is doing so (even to himself) is a man who can be praised.

"Now, a woman never married is no Wife, you say? Though you may say true, do you judge me so soon? I have been married, only once, verily, but it is the married man who is as changeable as the weather (and so you might also say that I have married fifty men, in each mood different, but all the same man, for all that) and who's to be pitied in that situation? Nay, when a woman's free to choose the man as pleases her, the men are all as varied as can be, but each one stays as constant as the earth. 'Tis only when the man is fairly married that he gads about. During Courtship he is the face of Perfection, and the very soul of Discretion.

"And so you see it is Courting that I must first address.

"Now then, for a woman it is easy to Court a man - she must simply Smile, and his imagination will do the rest. But I have heard that there are many who look upon Smiling as a sin, and beware the woman who smiles at a man as though she were pleased with his company! But indeed I find no law against smiling in Holy Scriptures - quite the opposite! I can read there that if any of us be glad, to let us sing praises, and that a merry heart does good as though it were medicine, and that a young person should take delight in his youth - in fact we are many times commanded to rejoice! How, I ask you, is one to be expected to Rejoice without smiling? It would be the same as asking a chicken to eat without scratching the earth, or a rooster to crow without ever seeing the sun.

"And again, I find that many say we women ought not be pleased with a man's company. How is that I ask? If a man wishes he may have as many friends as he wills - there are few indeed who would oppose him. But let a woman be seen in the same room with a man not her husband and all the world gapes on as though it were a tryst! As if breathing the same air as a male were something to be avoided! I see no demands against such innocent familiarity in the Holy Book. Indeed I read of women being told to marry as pleases them! What of Deborah, who judged all Israel? Surely she had at least one male friend, and the Book commends her for it. And Miriam, a Prophetess! With two brothers to keep in order, surely none could say a word against her having a _beau_ or two? At least I know she danced and sang in public, and all the people cheered. And what of Ruth? As fair a young widow as any could see, and she made bold to go to a man's chamber alone, and at night! Who speaks against _this_ , I ask? For the man she went to see was a good and fair man, and how else could she know of it but that she had Acquainted herself with his character beforehand?

"Does anyone mean to say we woman should make no inquiry of our opposite numbers, nor test their mettle as best we can before any knot is laid so that it cannot be undone? Whoever forbids me to Smile at man may just as well forbid me to speak to him, and what good will ever come of such an attitude? I say none, and I will proceed - an you will, to prove it.

"Now I do not say that a woman should smile imprudently. Anyone with sense will see that I mean women must make some effort if they wish to be at all respected. But if a woman is standoffish, and not given to showing herself friendly, how then, I ask, will she make friends?

"I grant that there are women who do not wish for men to be their friends - nor even their protectors - and this I can understand, though I make no claim to be in agreement. If a woman finds no joy in men, then by all means, let her seclude herself! I do not condemn those who wish to be alone, nor do I find the Holy Virgins repugnant. But - and God save me, for the thought is scandalous - the clothes they wear! It is one thing to wish for seclusion, but it is quite another to flaunt it! To insist upon such plainness cannot possibly be meant seriously. Doubtless they are kind and noble souls - for perhaps it is the wisest and best thing to live apart from all beings different than ourselves, having dealings only with other women, and forswearing all outward adornment. But I beg your Pardon if I could never live that way. Men are made to look and woman are made to show, and if a man looks at me while I show a pretty thing (it need not be assumed I mean _la belle chose_ , you know, what foolishness it is for one to expect that this is what I mean!) then who's to blame for beauty? And so I say - let them be plain who will, and let me have my gilt!

"Aha! Now you will say that I have at last fallen into a trap of words! For does not the Holy Book say for women to take no outward adornment? And so it does. But does it mean all? Or is the Apostle speaking of those who find expression only in such things, and drown the speaking of their lips in the clanking of bangles all day long? And indeed I find that this Order is only expressed to those who wish to take a Deacon as a husband! I never had such a wish, God be praised. My mind was clear enough to avert it.

"I ask you this - If Men and Women be different creatures (though of the same Creation), then why ought we not polish and tend and decorate and care for what it is that makes us who we are? Is caring for the body less important than caring for the Soul? The Soul surely cries out for attention - why no less the body? Do they not exist as one? Some would say our faces are less important than our minds, but I say you may show your mind by your face, and if you enjoy my looks you might also enjoy my thoughts, and thus my company, and who's in the wrong if you do? If I choose to display a necklace of fine golden stuff, or a ring of Sapphires, what of it? I do no wrong, I am certain. Is my neck meant to be hidden? Is my hand a shame? Foolishness! I say we were given mortal bodies for two reasons - pleasure of the mind, and pleasure of the eyes - and it need not strictly be one or the other.

"Furthermore, a man may clothe himself as fine as he wishes, and take no blame for being a gadabout, but just let an unmarried woman cut her gown too fine, or curl her hair too deftly! Those moralists who would judge us say it is because of our bad natures. But of course we know the men complain because it is when the women do these things that they are at our mercy. And why not, say I? We are at their mercy for the rest of the time, why can we not have the whip hand once or twice? Consider Abigail - valiant woman! She kept two men at bay - one a Fool and one a King! She flouted the one and was duly praised and rewarded by the latter - in due time she became a Queen! I hardly think that it was because she wore her rags to meet His Majesty.

"Why should I not do the same? I wore bright colors and fair gems all during my time with _beaux_ , and I had the best of it at every event. I came to know how to tend a man and turn him (and even flay him if I needed). I went first at every party, and led at every dance - and not because I was the best at anything, but because I comported myself well, and acted merrily. They all said I was a woman with resource, simply because I was no dowd, and showed I had some sense. I never wanted for a whit during that time - not one whit! I shall never be sorry for what one learns when one is Courting, come what may afterward! Thus I make bold to say - Marriage has its place - but courting's much more useful."

At this the Listener to the tale sprang to his feet and exclaimed, "S'faith, my good woman! I have a friend about to put up the banns - mayhap it would worth something to him if I told him to spare himself the trial!"

"Nay!" The Teller said quickly, "Pray be seated, Sir! Trust a man to shoot off his mouth before I have had done! Hear me out and you make think my tale quite a different draught of wine than the bitter medicine you seem to think it now. I say, have patience!"

The Listener sighed, "Very well, Madame! Be on with your story then, I will attend."

The Teller reset her mouth, and began again - "Five Swains I had before I left the field (and I may say I left it bare) - five that are worth the time it takes to tell of them. And this I say - three were old, and two were young, and the first four were bad, and the last one good (as you will see). Judge as you may, for I will tell you of them, but I acted as prudently as any woman could, I assure you.

"The three old ones were rich and titled - they hardly knew their own minds anymore, and could spare no thought for mine. But, oh how I used to laugh at them! For I used to give them my smile so easily, that they thought I was as infatuated with them as they were with me! Indeed I gave them no credit for this - what little I made them do for that reward! It still makes me laugh to think of it, for I managed most skillfully and lambasted them all day long, and if they complained, I won the argument in a trice, making them think that I had no thought but for them, and that they loved me even better than before. Nay nay, I set no high value on their affection, for it was so easy to make them lose their heads over me, I had no need to put any of my own affection into the game!

"A wise woman knows that a man too easily won has no value beyond that of sport - but what a sport is may be if one is careful! No one likes a nag, be her voice ever so pure and sweet. But let a woman be cunning (for I never yet met a man who could outdo a woman in the cunning game of love) and she may win all the hearts of the youths about her, and keep her virtue too.

"Shall I tell you how I managed? Listen well to me, and you will see how well I did.

"When these men - my swains - would come and stand near me at a party, or sit across from me at table, desiring nought more than my company, I would say in loud voice, 'Oh you fool! Why do you come here and wish to be seen in the same spot as I? Why, every woman here is better dressed and more finely tended than I am! Is this your doing? Have you so many mistresses that you must gather them all together at once and show them to each other? And I the last and least of them all! Drunk like a dog you are, to come sniveling to me for company at this late hour, while you have spent the better part of the day buying trinkets and fine silk handkerchiefs for every other woman, while I must put on my one good dress and poor plain bracelets to go with you to a party! Miserable wretch! Every woman here is admired more than I. Are they so alluring to you? Is this why you whisper to the men who serve the wine? So that all may have the best save me? Go, have your fill of their company, and do not scold me if I wish to talk to my friend Lord Basson over here - for why should you care?'

"'You say if a woman is poor than it is an ill thing to marry her - for the expense of one not used to finery is twice that of one accustomed to wealth (or so you say, old dotard!) - but if a woman is rich you say she thinks more of her appearance or of her position amongst her peers than of any man she has married, and so to be joined to her is a melancholy business!'

"'If a woman be pretty, then you say that all men want her, and thus why should you take what has been pressed by so many - like fruit, you say, old lecher! - that it is bruised beyond repair? You say she will be wanted for her figure, or her bright eyes, or glowing hair, or her small hands and feet, her breeding and charm, or her singing, or her dancing, and so (according to you, oh master of knavery!) if a woman is pretty, she must be going to the Devil! You say that even a walled city cannot last long under siege.'

"'But if a woman is ugly, then you say she chases men - any man at all! (every goose will have a gander, if she can, or so you say!) - for a woman always wants what she cannot get, and will fawn and whine and mewl all day until she finds one who will submit, and cling like a leech when she has won the battle. You think it is a trial to bridle that colt which no one is willing to ride.'

"'All these things you say when you stand next to me at a party - and that a wise man needs not to marry, if he wishes to go to Heaven! May God call fire down upon you, thou ill-bred dog!'

"'You say there are three reasons a man despises life - lack of money, lack of diversion, and loud women, and the presence of any one of these will sap a man's strength to the bone. I'faith, what is a man coming to when that is all the conversation he can think of?'

"'You say a woman is ever trying to hide her faults - unless you give her liberty, and then she shows them with a vengeance! Who is it that gave you the right to be so malicious?'

"'You say that even animals - Horses and Donkeys and Cattle and Dogs - all these are fully tried before they are bought, and also silverware and bowls and washing basins - but that a man cannot try a woman until she is his wife.

"'And this is why you say we _then_ show our faults! Miserable old idiot! Is a woman a dog to be so kicked? Is a Wife a spoon, to be tossed into the swill when another has dirtied her?'

"'Furthermore, you say I want to be praised by you all day long, and that I tell you to care for my house and my carriage, and wish that you would spend hours just looking at me, telling me I have the eyes of an angel, or that I become upset if you do not call me "fair lady" constantly in public, and make a feast for me every month, and give gifts to my brother! You say all that, old liar!'

"'And yet you become jealous of my footman, if I spare a thought for him and buy him new shoes because he needed them, or paid for my butler to have his coat mended - you say I think more of them than I do of you! Why, were you to leave my side tomorrow, I would have no more nor less to do with them than I have now!'

"'But tell me, why do you hide your papers from me when I go into your office? What have you to hide that is worse than what you accuse me of? It is my name and life and limb as well as yours that you risk by your _billet-doux_ , by God! Do you think you can hoodwink me? By all God's Mercy you cannot rule me until you rule yourself, an you were a saint in white robes! May God blind your eyes if you cannot rule both! What good is it to spy on _me_? I do believe you would like to make me into a piece of paper and fold me up into your pocket.'

"'You ought to say - "My sweet one, go - have a bright and merry time, see whom you wish and go where you will - I'll believe no gossip, for I know that you are a true woman, like the purest Daisy." You see we do not like a man who binds us unnecessarily - we like to have our liberty! Yet I put no binding on _you_ , you notice. Nor do I withhold my smiles and soft words when you do well, do I? If a man has enough, he ought to share, and what harm are my friendships to you? You say I am like a cat - one who preens all day and runs about all night! That is to say - oh Sir Sourface - that I dress up only to go show off! What is this argument that you constantly make about finery and chastity? All the worse for you, for you have no proof of any slight against you, nor any claim to more of me!'

"'What is the use of spying on me? By my faith - a King with all his spies could not put a curb on me, unless I let him. I could fool the man, have no doubt of that!'

"'You also say that of the four worst things there are for a man to bear, an ill tempered or a hateful wife is the worst. Poor old dear, Sir Idiot! Can you not make a wise saying without dragging some poor Wife's name through the mud?'

"'And even more you compare a woman's love to Hell fire - a dry and barren land awash with blazing, and the more it burns, the more it wishes to devour, so that in time it consumes all else.

"'Just like too much wine destroys a man, so a wife will destroy her husband - so you _say_ \- and you say that any man tied to a wife will surely attest to this.'

"'Dear Fool!'

"You see this is the way I managed all my first three Swains, and they bowed to me, and brought me trinkets, and did all I asked of them (and it was not much, I'll vow). Lord, what I put them through, for all their fawning over me! I laugh even yet to think of it, God ha'mercy. Doubtless it is wrong of me to do so, for I know that many times I was at fault, and they were in the right, bless them. But I always got in the first word, if there was a complaint to be made, and "speak first, speak last" you know, so t'was only fair. After a month or two with me, they were glad enough to concede the battles before they had ever begun.

"I would berate the dear men about their conquests when they had three bottles of wine in them, and could scarcely stand. But this they did not mind, for every man likes to be regarded powerful in this area, and this they thought was my way of showing it! I would promise that all my own partygoing was only do discover his flock of mistresses, and you see, I had thus a free hand to be very merry in my own way. (You see, did I not tell you a woman had natural cunning in this game?) I can only boast of this - I got the best of all my Swains, in every particular, without fail, whether by cunning, or by wheedling, or in some other way, such as the complaints which you have already heard me tell of.

"They had it worst when we were alone, especially. For if they tried to coax or cajole, or in other ways beguile me, I tell you now I would have none of it! I would up and leave the room sometimes if they said two words together. I would not pour the coffee, nor listen to them puff away at stories. And when they paid me the bribe of some fair trinket, only then I did give ear to their _gasconnades_ , and even then I would turn their words back upon them, like a pikestaff! I never did like old men - that is why I laughed at them, you see. Yet no matter how they glared (oh, some were as vicious as tigers with their eyes, by God!) I had it all my way in the end. They all thought it best to give me what rein I asked for.

"Then I would say, 'Observe, dear one, how meek and mild my spaniel is (you remember the brute he was when you gave him to me?) and what peace and joy we would have if you were like that to me always. He has sweetened his temper by his very being around me - why do you not do the same?', and then I would kiss their cheeks gently and say, 'You preach to me about the patience of Job, and so, I implore you, listen to your own counsel! Do you think to have all my mind and thought under your personal control? You cannot have such a thing of me, unless you have my body too! How shall you untie that riddle? Now I do not give my smile nor my gentle tones to any others - this you know - what more can you ask of me? I assure you that if I wished to _sell_ my _belle chose_ , I could keep myself in ten times the splendor that you see me now. But no, I keep my smiles and all my sweet words for you, and your greedy belly. If ought is wrong, then you're to blame, I have no doubt!'

"These are the kinds of words I had with them. Now, I shall tell you of my fourth Swain - and not only was he young and poor, he was also something of a reveler. That is to say his eyes wandered, or that he grazed in many pastures, or that he liked to cut notches on a post. "Goosey Goosey Gander, Upstairs, downstairs and in my lady's chamber"! You know what I mean by all this - simply, he was such a roué that I had no choice but to repay him for all his faults. And I did, Odds my life! Oh yes I did! Not, you see, by compounding his sins by committing my own, but truly I was so kind and happy in other men's company, that he often sat in his own cream with anger and jealous rage!

"I was his earthly Purgatory, of that you may be sure, for I was young, bright and passionate, besides being quite strong and stubborn, and very merry, especially after a glass of good Bordeaux (though none could ever say that I lost my head to drink. Very wise was the man who said a woman ought not to give herself to wine - what sorrow I might have encountered had I not heeded this advice!). S'faith! When I think back on all the merry parties and fair good times I had as a young woman, it warms the very cockles of my heart! Time, which burns out everything eventually, has of course, mellowed the fire, but be that as it may! I have had done with forges and the heat of new green wood. The sap is gone, God take it! The warm glow of coals shall serve for many a year yet, and I wager I shall be as happy in their dim red light as I was in the searing white light of the flames of my youth.

"Now let me see, where was I? Ah yes, my Fourth swain. Often he would feel the pinch (of the hangman's noose, to hear him complain) of my devised torments. But I hope that for this he may have Glory, for 'tis sure that I can have no more dealings with him now! Yes, for every slight he gave me, it was repaid in full. If the Judgement were to come tomorrow, neither he nor I would have one debt outstanding on this matter, we kept each other so on our toes. And maybe this was a _folie à deux_ , you say? Perhaps it was, but that is another tale.

"It so happened once in Springtime, that he was called away to duties in the south, and left me in the north, to my own devices for over a month.

"Now I have always loved the Springtime, April's Lady as I am, and bless me if I did not go walking every day of that month! To my friend's houses, to the fields full of flowers, through forests, farms and all, I had a most merry Spring. I went near to ruin in shoe leather, and I cocked a snook to any who objected, for so help me I could do as I pleased!

"It was during this happy time that I met my fifth swain - and he was something else again, for he was young and rich, and what is more, I loved him. Perhaps it was for this that God made him the most troublesome of all my swains, for so he was and is - though now of course I call him Husband. But for all that I loved him, and no matter the trouble we had he never lost my favor completely, for he always knew my heart, God bless him!

"I believe I loved him best because at first he was standoffish towards me, and 'tis well you know the manner of women - deny us a thing and we are ever and more eager to have it; pursue us and we run as though it were thrown at our heads. When one sneers at our wares, we bring out our best, but when a crowd comes to our market the price is usually too high for most (as a great bargain has no value). Every wise woman knows this.

"Now I will tell you what happened to us. This fifth man (a Knight he was and all) walked together, and talked together, and in general got along so well that I (prudently, as you will see) told him that if I were a free woman, he would find me most amiable to a continuation of pleasantries. You see how I was as wise in love as in play? A bird must have more than one nest to fly to, and an unwise hen is not worth her weight in sand.

"I convinced the good man that he had enchanted me, that I could not stop thinking of him all the day, and dreamed of him all night (and for once, would you believe it, it was very nearly true!). In this way he was caught. All that Springtime I said to him that were I free to do so, he might marry me, but not an action could he take until I was free.

"So when at last my fourth swain threw me over for another he found more obliging, I made a great show of being furious - for this is what a woman scorned is supposed to do. I hemmed and hawed, and was disdainful to his new woman, and in general acted the shrew to its fullest perfection. But as I had already obtained another _beau_ , (you see how prudent I was?) I did no secret weeping, nor was my heart torn in two.

"What should I say? After some time (it was a little as could possibly be) this man (a fair and goodly Knight was he) married me in a church, with as much ceremony as could be hastily got together. And I gave him all my goods and land and gold, and all my heart and soul too. Afterward, truly, I had cause to regret this, for he was a man as stubborn as I, and verily he would not agree with me on any matter for many a month. Once, when I had cause to go into his office, I saw his sealing ring, and he very nearly got us both killed.

"Shall I tell you how it was that I was nearly killed for a ring? Very well, I shall tell you truly.

"Now you must know that my husband was a _jeunesse dorée_ of great renown, and all day long his occupation was to tell stories - the sillier the better - and to laugh at them, with the Court of the Prince, and to do nothing else, for hours on end. I knew no other occupation for him, I certainly did not know he had another, for even in my presence he would tell the most silly yet amusing stories that I could not believe his mind was filled with anything else.

"Then, one day, I chanced to ask him for a Favour - not much, but only to save my brother's life - and he went on telling stories, being silly, and having nothing in his head, so much so that I nearly despaired the next morning when I found him gone from our home. So, for one moment I disobeyed him, and went into his office (a place he had heretofore kept from me, and I let him, for the place did not interest me) and it was there that I found out that he did not trust me in any way as a husband should, and had two lives - and to top it off, the one he led with me was by far the less honourable one. His signet ring had an honourable name on it, and he was living with me in an empty lie!

"What else could I do but follow the scoundrel into whatever scheme he had gone (for I saw then that he indeed was off to save my brother) and try as I might to save the silly man from his own devices? How could I know that he was past master in this occupation ( _he_ called it an Honour and an Adventure, but to me it was mere Danger) and that my involvement could bring death to us both?

"I will say that he Conducted himself most admirably during the whole Ordeal, and our common enemy gave him more stripes upon his back for his bravery than I would ever have given him for his mistrust of me.

"You see how much better it would have been for all if he had seen fit to tell me of all this, and mayhap have averted all the trouble before it started, and after this I began to demand that he give up this double life, and give his honour and his praise to me, and I would give him all my love in return (as easy promise, for he already had it, as you know).

"And for all the times he refused me, I made him tell me yes, eventually, for at last (after much trouble) we made up, and the two of us have been happy ever since. My husband said to me "Here, dear wife, is my life and Honour, you guard them, as I shall do with yours - let us trust one another." By this you see I had gained a master stroke, and henceforth I had him by the hand (though of course this means he has me by the hand also) and we had done with arguments. So help me God, I am as good and gentle to him as any Wife could be - from the East Indies to the Western ones - and he is faithful to me and I to him. May God in Heaven bless his Soul.

"And now I'll tell my tale, an it please ye."

**\- Here Ends the Preamble**


	2. Between The Listener And The Teller

**Now Hear the Words Between The Listener and The Teller:** The Listener laughed when he heard all this, "Zounds woman!" said he, "It must be a long tale indeed for such a _preamble_. Why is it that women have never learnt the art of brevity?"

The Teller said, "We have never learnt it, Sir, for the simple reason that men are so ill equipped to teach it to us."

"'Ware, mi'lady - I may well be the next one called upon to tell a tale, and in it I may not be as kind to women as I might be. Do be 'ware to whom you speak!"

"I shall speak as pleases me, mi'lor - and 'ware yourself! Indeed I shall not now be as kind to the men in my tale as I should otherwise have been. Do not provoke me further."

"Mercy, good woman! Another bolt with such a point will pierce me through!"

"Do you think my tale less than interesting, or your own enjoyment lacking?"

The Listener sighed, "You read me like a book, oh Fairest of Females! On with the tale then, and spare no man!"


	3. The Tale of the Wife of Bath

**Here Begins the Tale of The Wife of Bath:** In days not so distant that they should become a burden to the tale, nor so close by as to be retained in present memory, there lived a King of Merry Old England who labored under the delusion that all his courtiers were trees and all his trees had thus to be his courtiers, and while under this Delusion, he talked to them both alike, and non-sensically, so that both might understand. They of that time, and we of this, have for this called him Mad; indeed nothing could ever dissuade His Majesty that the trees upon his Royal Estate were in fact the Ministers of the Empire. (And of this it is well said that we misjudged the man, for many a non-Englishman, upon first landing on that island, has inadvertently made the same mistake.)

And so it was that this Mad King had a son (a thing all men must have one day, whatever the cost, or so I am told), and this Prince was well suited to Merry Old England, for nothing would please the Prince but to be Merry - at such length and at such a level that it fair wore out even the best of the court, so much so that it were perhaps better if they had indeed been trees - they would have been better treated by the people (and would have had less to do with mud, cold nights, and knots on the head). But however it was, the Prince was loved by many, as he was a King before his time, and many a wise man (and an even wiser woman) has made a fortune knowing that youth and indiscretion spring from the same source.

Being 'ware of this the Prince, one eve, while at a session of fair Merrymaking, made a decree (the only one that ever was listened to, or thought of at all after he had given it), and it was this - that All his Knights should Never (not on any circumstance) be Found to have Visited the house of a Magdalene.

(This decree was long remembered only because it startled even the Merriest of all who heard it as being perhaps the most preposterous thing to ever have been said in the presence of the Prince - and the fact that the Prince Himself had Said it, made the shock of it even worse.) That the Prince could give such an order was given as his Right to do, of course, but Given that He Himself had Often been found in the state he now required forbidden, his Order was seen as a Joke of the first proportions.

The Prince, displeased at this response, then said that the very first one of his Knights to be brought forward and accused of this monstrosity (that was now to be called a villainy) should, with proofs affirmed, therefore be put to death.

It was on the very eve following this, that a Knight - a Sir Phillip by name - was found to have done this terrible thing, and he was brought to the Prince's Presence and there Accused and Tried and Sentenced - all at once, you understand, for why waste time when it was clear that the Prince would not be Merry until such time as his Decree could be carried out to its Fullest extent? And so it was, and Sir Phillip was tied and bound and trussed and shackled - he could scarce move by that time, poor man - and was about to be carted off to a suitable place for hanging, when up jumped the Fool of the court and demanded a sport with the condemned man, before the fateful Event.

"A Quest, A Quest!" sang the Fool (and he was the Prince's favourite) "A Quest to Purge and Clean; To a Merry old Sheen; The Name of this Knight, Sir Philip, of Blight!"

Now the Prince, amused to a fair frenzy over his favourite's merry rhyme, did assent to the idea, and at once gave Sir Phillip a Quest of Royal and Profound importance.

"You Sir, will," said the Prince (in his most Stately tones), "By all your Might, endeavour to find out, in whatever way you rightly can, What Women Love Most. An you can do this thing, your life will be spared."

Then the Prince lapsed into a fair Melancholy (speaking in stately Tones always had this effect) and he gestured to his Guards to see that all was done as he had said.

Unnoticed, the Fool did follow Sir Phillip, and spoke to him in a quiet, earnest voice, so that none other ever heard the words they spoke, but indeed it was strange - the Fool was never quiet in this way, and it always seemed he knew nought of earnestness.

But however it was, the next morning dawned bright and it was clear to Sir Phillip what it was that he must do to save his head, for a Fair Circumstance was on Sir Phillip just then, because he (as it happened) was a covert member of the Secret Knightly Order of Le Muron Rouge - the greatest of all the Empire's Secret Orders, and from the resources of the exalted leader of this Band (The Muron Rouge, Himself), Sir Phillip easily made his way Across the Water to a place where his Quest might well be fulfilled.

Others of the Order of Le Muron Rouge were in this land (Across the Water, do not forget) and they went off on Quests of their own, for this Land, you see, was in the midst of a great Turmoil. Sir Philip was left to Quest alone, and we went form house to house, asking here and there - "What is it that women Love most?", and receiving various answers, some most distressing, and none of the answerers would agree. Some said that women love freedom, some said money, some said position, some said merrymaking, some said gems, some said lovemaking, and some said that women are most amiable when they are flattered and catered to in all their ways. (And I'll not deny that this is sometimes near to the truth, for I know of no woman who is not attracted to consideration.) Some said that we love best men that let us do just as we please, and do not scold, but call us wise and discreet. In fact, it is universally true that a woman will endure much from a man if he indulges her in this - for we all wish to be thought wise and pure. Just let man attempt it, and he'll see what good we can do, no matter how malicious our tongues may be.

Some said that we wish to admired for our stability and our strength of character - our obedience and our coolness. Of course this is foolishness outright - who can forget the story of Pandora? Do not ask me for the whole of it, ask Hesiod, and can tell it, and you can read it of him. Our curiosity will always be our undoing, that's plain.

But this Knight, Sir Phillip, of whom I am speaking, when he saw that none could tell him truly what women love the most, was completely downcast, and turned his face toward his home, determined to give it up, and brave the Fate which was on him. As he was journeying, it came to pass that he went by a forest, and hearing the neigh of horses, he turned aside into the bushes, to see what he could see. And behold! It was two friends of his - both members of this same Knightly Order, and they did struggle with a wooden casket of goodly proportions - attempting to get it into the cart which was their duty to attend.

"Sir Phillip!" said one, when he had laid his burden in the cart, "You are saddened! Have you had no luck?" And when the knight replied that he had not, his friend took pity on him, and gave him this message -

"The Muron Rouge said that this might come to pass, and here are the orders which we were to follow if this was the case. Now listen well, Sir Phillip, and attend! Half a league to the north, in the midst of the forest, is a glade. Within that glade is a woman, old and wrinkled, and dressed in rags. She you must question, and do as she requests, and then all may be well, but beware your pride Sir! It may be your downfall!"

And after giving this most wise advice, the two good Knights drove away, having loaded up their burden, and discharged their duties - strange though they may seem to us.

Sir Phillip, needing no extra prompting, made his way through the forest, and found all as had been told to him - there was a glade, most beautiful with Ferns and Pines and Poplars, and an Oak tree or two, and in the midst of it, sat a Woman, just as they had said, old and really wrinkled and darkened with age so much that she was uglier than can be described. Upon seeing Sir Phillip, she rose, and addressed him, as soon as his came within her hearing.

"Sir Knight," she said, her voice like gravel, "There is no path this way, but tell me what you seek, and I may help you - we who are old know many things not known to the young."

"Old mother," said Sir Phillip, "I am as good as dead if I cannot find out What Woman Love the Most in this world, and unless you can tell me that, I do not know what you can do for me."

The old Hag thought a moment and then said, in a low, harsh voice, "I can help you, Good Knight, but only if you take my hand - in all good faith - and swear to me that when I tell you the answer to this riddle, you will do for me the first thing I ask, if it be honourably within your power to do it."

Sir Philip, having truly no other choice, said bravely, "You have my hand and my word, good woman, I consent." And with this he lifted her upon his horse, and they began the Journey to the Prince's Court together.

In due time they arrived, and the Prince, seeing much Merriment in the fulfillment of this Quest, did call to his Presence many Wives and a good number of wise Widows, and many girls and Nurses, and other women that he knew, to hear and judge what Sir Phillip had to say.

And Sir Phillip was not silent, nor did shrink before the Prince, but came up and said boldly, "Your Majesty, and all the Court, hear me! I have found that generally Woman (whatever class they may be) mostly wish to have complete control over their men in all their affairs of love or money, and all in all wish to be mistress of their lives. That is what women most desire, let anyone despise me for saying so."

Then there was silence in the court, for none dared oppose the saying, it was so true. Then the old woman, in this silence, stepped forward and cried out -

"Oh Prince! And all the court, hear me as well! I have this day told this Knight, Sir Phillip, this very truth which you all attest to by your silence. Now I say that he has promised me one wish, and if it be in his power he must do it for me, for he has given his word of Honour." And turning to him she said, "Before all here, His Majesty the Prince, and all the Court, I ask you, Sir Knight, to take me as your Bride, for I have saved your life - deny it if you can!"

Then Sir Phillip turned very pale, and showed clearly that this was not what he had expected of the old hag, but like a man he did not shame her in public, and very gallantly took her arm, and led her out from there.

What shall I say of his pleading and her insistence, of his anger and her implacability, of his brooding and her triumph? I need say nothing, save that by sundown it was all arranged.

Now you, good reader, will say that I ought to tell something of the wedding - of the clothes and of the feasting and the music - and you would rightly feel cheated if I did not, but lo! I tell you I cannot say a word about them, for there were none! The contract was quickly and plainly done, but Sir Phillip was greatly troubled, and there was no joy in his house that night, for he tossed and turned upon his bed, and found no peace in the company of his wife.

As she lay there she said, most tenderly, "Good husband, tell me - it is that I have saved your life, or that I am disposed to love you all your days that you have set up this great distress? What sin is it to be poor and to marry a man as great as you? Tell me what I have done that is wrong and I will change it if I can."

"Change it!" said the knight, "Alas! You cannot change being ugly and old and of low birth (though truly that you are poor does not rankle me, for I have enough and to spare of riches) but is it any wonder that I am troubled? What man is there who wishes for such things upon his wedding night?"

"Is this all the cause of your discontent? Nought else?" she asked.

"It is all and it is enough, I'll vow!" he answered.

"But, husband," said she, "An you would treat me right I could change all these things in a trice! Now listen to me, and I will tell you how you must think."

"You call me out for my lack of beauty. And if I am ugly, what of it? Say rather that beauty is in the eye of the beholder, and you will do well. Wish me beautiful, and so I will be! Think of this - you could see me lovely when no other one does - what a precious treasure to you! What guard against cuckoldry! Think of that!"

"If your complaint is that I am old, well, amend your thinking and consider - I may thus know all in all the ways to please you, my husband, that I would not know if I were young. And what wisdom in housekeeping, what skill in accounts! I might have such knowledge in conversation, such practice in womanly arts, that you could do no better 'til you were old yourself!"

"Now as for low birth, I cannot say anything except that is not nobility of mind a far greater gift than one of name? To be sure a good name is the greatest of treasures, but a noble title can be bought as well as earned. Is not the mind far more than the trappings of a signature, or a patent on the wall? I can assure you that my mind is as open to ennobling, and the higher forms of thought, as any lordling's daughter."

"So then, husband, tell me what you think of all these things, and if you cannot manage to be happy with this advice, you will no doubt be sorrowful all your days, and I do not want that for you. Speak to me and tell me, will you be content?"

Sir Phillip did consider well these things, and was cut unto the heart of him, for his wife's calm wisdom when she had every right to be angry at the situation, shamed him into understanding.

"Very well, Good Wife," said he, "You speak well, and I'll wager your heart is as warm as any could desire, so I submit, and lay my heart in your hands."

Then she set a gentle hand upon his breast and said, "Then I am the greater, since you give your Honour to me, and all your Soul?"

"Yes," said he, simply.

And then - behold! - the woman did off with the ragged vestments that she had been obliged to wear at the order of Monsieur Le Muron Rouge (to effect her escape, you understand, for her life had been threatened in that land Across the Water), and she wiped clean her face, and brushed her hair, and - glory be! - she was as young and as fair and pretty as any man would wish. (And rich too, let us not forget, for the Casket which the two other Knights had carried off was filled with her Dowry, and a finer one could not be imagined.)

As she had made good her half of the bargain, Sir Phillip made good on his, and the Lady was given all her heart could wish for, and had the Honour of her husband at her call at any moment - and thus she was the stronger of the two of them (though quiet it be spoken!) and he laid all his possessions at her feet, and fair and wise she turned out to be, so that there were none so Happy in all of England as they.

And this - a Final Word! May the Good God above send us young men, strong and fair, good hearted and trusting, and may the Lord of Heaven send a virulent pox upon old and stingy Husbands!


	4. More Between the Listener and The Teller

**Behold the Further Words of The Listener and The Teller:** Now after all this The Teller stopped for breath, "What think you now, Sir, of my ability to tell a story?" asked that noble Lady, relaxing her tongue at last.

"Well, m'dear," said The Listener, "It was well told!"

"Of course it was - I have had long practice in creating diversions for you during these long rainy evenings in Bath, my love."

"True indeed," said the The Listener, "Though, it is well perhaps that the children are in bed."

"How so, husband?"

"Because there is another Tale to be told to another Wife of Bath tonight, and dear as our children are, it would not be well if they heard it."

The Teller laughed, "You, Sir Percy, are incorrigible!"

"Yes Marguerite, but I've a fancy you knew that when you married me."

**\- Here Ends the Tale of the Wife of Bath**

* * *

**~*~**

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**The Meaning of a Few Unfamiliar Terms**

It is my hope that this small Glossary will help anyone not used to some of the Language used in this Work of Fiction. All definitions were found either through Google or on .

 **Banns** \- An announcement of an intended marriage, usually made in church.

 **Belle Chose** \- Literally "pretty thing", used by Chaucer to mean vagina.

 **Billet-doux** \- Love letters.

 **Cocked a snook** \- To "thumb one's nose" at an idea or action.

 **Folie à deux** \- Literally "The madness of two", meaning a shared psychological disorder.

 **Gasconnade** \- A tall tale, or over-exaggeration.

 **Jeunesse Dorée** \- Literally "gilded youth", meaning fashionable and rich young people.

 **Magdalene** \- An immoral woman.


End file.
